In October 1991, my parents and I lived in Cornwall, and we were visiting my grandparents in Yorkshire. I was 6 years old, and my dad was a fit young 32-year-old Royal Navy hydrographer at the peak of his career. He and my mum had a rare day out in Leeds, whilst I spent some quality time with my grandad.
On coming back to the house, I was greeted by my mum who told me to keep nice and quiet, as my dad had a really bad headache. I have always been extremely close to my dad, so headed straight up to the spare room. He was in the dark, couldn't lift his head or neck, could barely open his eyes and was incredibly pale. It was really clear that he was extremely unwell. In my sweet 6-year-old mind, I remember asking if he wanted some medicine. Just trying to reply was a huge effort. I remember lying next to him incredibly worried.
My mum had called my grandparent's GP, who advised that it was likely my dad had the flu. She called again around an hour or so later, with a raised temperature and worsening symptoms. Again, it's most likely to flu. My mum then telephoned our family GP in Cornwall, who was familiar with the signs and symptoms of meningitis and immediately advised her to call 999. I remember seeing my 6ft4" strong dad being carried down the stairs on a stretcher, in my pyjamas, surrounded by serious concern. I now know that my mum was told by the paramedics that they did not expect him to survive the trip to hospital.
My dad was admitted to ITU, had a lumbar puncture, and was diagnosed with meningococcal meningitis and septicaemia and that he was critically unwell. He was in septic shock, he went into cardiac arrest, and received lifesaving treatment.
My dad's legs were severely affected, the rash had advanced and caused ulceration down the bone. He had ulcers across his eyes, elbows and feet. It seemed unlikely that his legs were saveable, and he was prepared for amputation. This was a truly terrifying experience for us all. Whilst I only visited my dad once in hospital, the risk of exposure to children no really understood in the early 90's, each day we would wake hoping that we would see an improvement. After incredible care, my dad survived, with all of his limbs.
He was eventually transferred to the military hospital in Plymouth, which was subsequently converted into what would become my own boarding school (my chemistry lab was my dad's ward!). He underwent a long period of rehabilitation, which was an extremely bumpy and challenging road.
One of my personal challenges was that whilst my mum and dad were in Yorkshire receiving treatment, I was returned home so that I could continue to go to school. Where I believe charities like Meningitis Research Foundation have vastly improved this feeling of isolation, is by knowing that families need support during such critical periods, by providing support and be-friending services, and understanding the impact such a difficult time can have on the family as a whole.
When my dad eventually came home, he weighed less than 9 stone, and was a shadow of his former self. He had severe muscle wastage and his legs in particular required significant treatment. I remember the "big beige bin" which I would fill with iodine solution and soak my dad's legs three times a day, before packing and bandaging them. His legs very slowly recovered, and he gradually rebuilt his strength, very much one day at a time. He has been left with significant scarring and weakness around his ankles.
My dad was unable to go back to work full time for around 2 1/2 years, and he was limited to on-shore work, which he found hard being a hydrographer (mapping the ocean beds). My dad to this day has struggled with brain bleeds, significant nose bleeds, and thunderclap headaches. These can come totally out of the blue, can be triggered by carrying something a bit too heavy, or around periods of stress. They will often render him out of action for several weeks.
One of the most subtle but perhaps for him the most frustrating long-term injury, is his short-term memory loss. Again, this fluctuates, but he finds it infuriating. Finding the aids and tools to continue to manage memory loss has been a daily challenge for him.
Despite this terrifying diagnosis and the lifesaving treatment he received, the long period of rehabilitation did result in him returning to his career in the military. My dad became a Captain in the Royal Navy and was awarded an OBE following his efforts after the Indonesian tsunami in 2004. Attending Buckingham Palace with him was an incredibly proud moment for both my mum and I, and an enormous accomplishment for my dad.
My dad did suffer a delay in diagnosis of meningitis, and I am extremely thankful that the GP did recognise that in time, resulting in my dad's life being saved.
However, I do feel very strongly as an ambassador for the Meningitis Research Foundation that the signs and symptoms of meningitis and sepsis at all ages are recognised and understood by everyone.
I have volunteered for the Meningitis Research Foundation for several years until the point at which I became an ambassador and be-friender.
My career has followed my personal experience, as I am now a medical negligence lawyer supporting families affected by delays in diagnosis of meningitis, sepsis and Group B Strep including those who have not survived the disease.
My dad and I remain as close as ever and more than 30 years on we still love our adventures together. In 2011, we undertook a fundraising challenge in aid of meningitis on a race from London to Barcelona on The Grand Tour, and now often take trips to France and Spain to enjoy quality time together, for which we are forever grateful.
